Home for Christmas
by smoltinypumpkinchild
Summary: Happily married with three children, the last thing John Laurens expects for Christmas is a visit from his conservative southern father. You might think this is going to be angst but it's rlly just chapter after chapter of Henry getting his dumb prejudices smashed into his own face and the whole Squad being hella gay and pissing him off. No agnst rlly I am weak and need fluff dudes
1. The phonecall

John was sitting on the sunken couch, running his fingers through his husband's hair, and watching Orange is the new Black with a mouthful of popcorn when he called. The phone in the other room rang out, making them both jump, and he stood, ignoring Alexander's whine of protest, and trudged through the hall to answer it, picking up without looking to see who it was.

"This is John, if you want Alex, he's not working right now." he said instinctively, expecting one of Alexander's colleagues calling about a case- but felt his blood run cold at the voice that answered.

"Jack, hello. I trust I'm calling at a good time?"

His father.

No. It couldn't be. How could he have got hold of this number? Why would he be calling? John had cut himself off from the man completely after he left for college, making it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with him, and hadn't spoken to him once since. What on earth did he want?

"F-Father? What do- Why are you...?"

"What, I can't check up on my own son?" came the voice through the receiver. John felt anger start to bubble in his stomach.

"You haven't tried to 'check up' on me once in the last eleven years. Do you expect me to believe that this is just a friendly call?' he shot back incredulously, voice rising. Henry Laurens merely chuckled off-handedly.

"Well, perhaps it's not _just_ a friendly call. I wanted to let you know that I'm coming to visit you later this week."

"You're- you're WHAT?" John choked, panic flooding through him. He was coming? Here? "H-How would you know where I live?"

"You're forgetting that I'm a Senator, Jack; I have my connections. I feel bad for shutting you out all these years, and I want to see how you're doing. What's the harm in that? I'll be there Friday afternoon, and I'll stay until Boxing Day-I've missed spending Christmas with my family."  
 _You are not my family._ John thought- the words rising to his lips and sticking there, unspoken. Henry continued, unperturbed. "You mentioned an 'Alex'- your roommate, is he? I'd have expected you to be living independently by now, but I guess I over-estimated you. I trust that the rest of your situation will be to my satisfaction."

"Father-"

"No need, Jack, you can tell me everything when I arrive. I have to go, I have a meeting with an important sponsor- I'll see you on Friday."

"But-"

"Goodbye, Jack."

He hung up.

John stood in shock. He felt delirious.

His father. Coming home for Christmas. His father, who he hadn't spoken to in over a decade, coming to stay in his home for a week. Nothing about this was going to be easy. He was brought back down to earth by a shout from across the hall.

"Joooohn, come back! We're out of popcorn!" Alex. He had to talk to Alex about it- that was the first step to sorting out this mess. John walked a little dazedly back into the living room, sat down on the sofa and grabbed the TV remote, shutting off the screen. "Hey!" Alex pouted, going to grab the remote back, but stopped short as he saw the look on John's face. He put a warm hand on John's knee. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"I..." John ran a hand through his tangled hair. That was one thing Henry was sure to dislike- he'd always wanted to grow it out what he was a kid, but his father had refused, saying it would make him look like a girl. It was the first in a _very_ long list. Almost everything about the life he now lead went against his father's wishes.

"John?" He looked over at Alex, his wide, concerned eyes and frown, and sighed. There was to easy way to say it.

"My... My father is coming to stay. On Friday." Alex's eyes widened even more in shock.

"What?"

"He- uh- he just called. He's invited himself over for Christmas." John explained, looking at his knees. Alexander frowned.

"I thought you two didn't talk?"

"We don't- not since I started college! I don't even know how he got our number, or our address... Says he has 'connections'."

"God..."

There was silence for a few seconds, then-

"I'm guessing he doesn't know you're married?" Alex murmured. John snorted.

"Fuck no, he doesn't even know I'm gay. He would have disowned me in a heartbeat- thinks it's a disease, or a choice- fucking bigot."

"Well... That's going to be pretty difficult for us to hide..." Alex began, gesturing to the wedding photos on the wall, and the other numerous pictures of them kissing, holding baby Phillip, swinging Frances around in front of the Colluseum- which they'd visited, courtesy of the Washingtons, the previous year, Angie smiling gap-toothed with a painting she'd done. "I mean- we're pretty _out,_ and we have three kids, and-"

"Oh, I wasn't going to suggest we _hide_ it." John assured him, shaking his head. "He's just... Not likely to react too well."

"Oh. Yeah..." Alexander scratched the back of his neck, apparently considering something. After a moment, he voiced what John was already thinking.

"What do we tell the kids?" John exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes.

"The truth, I guess." he sighed. "That my father is coming to visit us, and he doesn't approve of our relationship. They probably already know that a lot of people think two men or two women shouldn't get married- I mean, have you spoken to some of the parents at the school? Henry can just be another of those ignorant bigots. Hopefully, he won't say too much in front of them- he might still have that decency..."

"Here's hoping."

Alex sighed and slumped against the couch. "This sucks, John. It really fucking sucks."

"I know, babe. Trust my conservative relatives to ruin Christmas, huh?"

"No, I meant- for you! From what you've told me, he's a total asshole- even though he didn't know you were gay- he'll be ten times worse now- you shouldn't have to spend time with him! Shit, you're an adult, you're perfectly capable, you shouldn't have to answer to him any more! I'll- I'll call him back, tell him he's not to just barge into our home and bully you-" Alex's voice had started to rise gradually, the hand on John's knee digging in its fingernails. "That asshole- I'll call social services! I'm sure there's a law somewhere that says he can't just walk in on us when he's not welcome- and after all the shit he put you through as a kid? Never answered for that, has he... Oh, I could get an offence together, I could-"

"Alex! I... I'm sorry, I just...I don't want to dredge up that shit, alright? I don't... I just want to forget it. I want to forget him." John felt his throat start to burn as he fought back tears. He had thought that he'd escaped him. That he could forget that part of his life and move on- and now here it was, coming to stay for Christmas. And that monster would be around his _children_...

Alexander put his arms around him, burying his head in his shoulder. He smiled a little at the feeling, blinking the cloudy sheen from his eyes, and laced their fingers together.

"I'm sorry." Alex murmured. "I'm just mad, y'know? It's not fair..."

"Nothing's fair, Alex. Especially not my father."

They sat in silence, staring into space, both dreading the week that they were about to go through. John, still terrified of the man who had caused him and his family so much pain, who had the audacity to barge back into his life and call himself family, who had never respected him, had never come close to knowing or loving him, felt the long-gone bruises around his neck throb as though fresh.

Alexander, who had only a few whispered horror stories with which to form a picture of his father-in-law, felt sick to his stomach as well. John was so brave, so full of life and laughter, and he had gone through so much. What if this man, gone for a decade, barrelling back into his life... What if it broke him? He had only heard John talk about his father on a couple of occasions- once, in college, both of them cross-legged on Alex's bed as John shook and sobbed through his words, rubbing his neck and arms absently as if the phantom wounds still caused him pain... and once the first time they had brought Phillip home. His husband had had a steely look in his eyes, and he had vowed in a whisper that he would be everything that Henry Laurens wasn't- that he would show their baby that he was beautiful, and special, and valued, and that he loved him more than anything in the world. Both had broken Alexander's heart.

Reaching up and cupping John's face with his hand, he kissed him softly, gently, and felt the cool press of a tear-stained cheek against him. John gripped Alex's waist and pulled him close, relaxing against him with a small sigh, breaking away slowly with his eyes still shining

"I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm still scared of him."

"I'm not going to let him hurt you, John." Alex told him firmly. "I won't leave you alone with him, I _certainly_ won't leave any of our children alone with him, and if he so much as _looks_ at you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, he's out. Okay?" John swallowed, nodded, his forehead still pressed against Alex's.

"Okay."

Then, to Alexander's surprise, he pushed him onto his back on the couch, moved to straddle him, and pressed a soft kiss to the skin just below his ear. He felt Alex shiver beneath him, and smiled at the whine he let out when his teeth nipped at his neck.

"Speaking of _uncomfortable_..." he murmured against Alex's skin, mouthing lower and lower and twisting his fingers into the hem of his t-shirt. "I'd be willing to bet that a certain someone wouldn't be completely... at _ease_ with our PDA..." Alex snorted and pushed him away, re-angling them so that he could pepper John's jaw with kisses.

"What are you saying?" he muttered "we make out in front of him and watch him squirm?"

"I mean... It's a possibility..." Alexander chuckled as he kissed him, reaching up to tangle his fingers in John's hair, tugging just enough to make him whine, but then pushed them both upright, legs still tangled.

"Really, though... Should we play it down? Or up?"

"I think we should just be normal." John shrugged. "Let him see that we're a perfectly happy, loving family, and watch him get annoyed when he can't accuse us of brainwashing our kids."

"Alright... sounds like a plan." Alex grinned, kissing him again, and then pulled him up off the sofa. "C'mon, let's head up. It's late, and we need our strength to prepare for this shitstorm."

"Hey, we've got two days. We'll be fine. We'll kill him with kindness."

" _I'll_ kill him with our bread knife." Alex muttered. John laughed.

"That's why I love you."

"Ah yes, the enormously sexy act of murdering one's immediate family."

"But of course."

They fell into bed, curled together, and had little trouble falling asleep. Whatever shit Henry Laurens had to throw at them, they could handle it. Their college friends hadn't called them a dynamic drastic duo for nothing. They would be fine.

They decided to talk to the kids about it over breakfast the next morning. Four members of the family were around the kitchen table eating their breakfast- Angelica and little Frances spilling their porridge over the table, Phillip shovelling Cheerios into his mouth as fast as he could go, and Alexander licking jam off his toast so that John swatted at his head with a tea towel. John himself was finishing the washing up from the previous night, half of a cereal bar hanging out of his mouth. Once he had stowed the last plate away in the cupboard, he turned to address the room- just managing to catch Phillip as he went to barrel out into the hall.

"Woah, woah, hold your horses!" he laughed, ushering the little boy back to the table. "Your dad and I need to talk to you about something. You too, Angie. Frances is too little to understand..." He took a seat next to Phillip, looking to Alexander for approval to go forward and, when he nodded, took a steadying breath. Phillip and Angelica were both watching him intently. They could tell that whatever he was going to say was serious.

"We're going to have a visitor over Christmas this year." he began. "We only found out last night, so it's a bit of a surprise. My..." He swallowed. It was harder to say than he'd thought. _Come on, man._ He could to this. He took another deep breath.

"My father... Your grandfather is coming to stay with us." Both of the children's eyes widened in surprise.

"Your Papa?" Phillip piped up in confusion. "I-I thought you didn't have one..." He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"No, I do have one." John told him, smiling wryly. "I just haven't talked to him for a very long time. He phoned us last night and said that he was coming to visit over Christmas. He will be arriving on Friday afternoon this week." The two kids looked from John to Alexander and back, apparently seeking conformation. Alex nodded.

"That's right. Now, your grandfather doesn't actually know about us yet. About me, you, and Frances, that is- so it's going to be quite a surprise for him when he gets here. The reason that we needed to talk to you about it is..."

"Is that my father isn't a very nice person." John finished for him. "He can actually be a very nasty person. He wasn't a good father to me when I was little, so he probably won't be a good grandfather either. And... And he won't like the fact that me and your dad are together." Angelica and Phillip looked a little confused at that, so John tried to explain. "You know Mr Eaker, who lives up the road?" They nodded. "Do you remember that he said that we shouldn't be married, because we're both men? Well, your grandfather will think that too. There are a lot of things he won't like about us. He won't like that us boys have our hair long, and he won't like that Phillip does ballet, or that he loves to bake, because he thinks those are girl things." Phillip blushed at that, and looked at the table. "-which is _stupid_." John finished firmly. "We know that there aren't girl things or boy things, and there's nothing wrong with doing something that you love. Right, Phillip?" He reached across the table and squeezed his son's shoulder. Phillip looked up at him and smiled.

"Right." he murmured.

"He also won't like most of our friends. He'll probably be quite angry that we all call Lafayette and Peggy 'they', instead of 'he' or 'she', because he thinks that you can only be the gender your body was born as. He won't like that Auntie Eliza and Auntie Maria are married either, or that Uncle James, Auntie Dolley and Uncle Thomas are all in love with each other, and he might be quite nasty to a lot of us. So, what I really want to tell you two is that, no matter what he says, it doesn't matter. You just block him out, OK? And if he says anything that hurts you, or confuses you, or makes you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable at all, you need to come and tell me or Dad straight away, and we'll sort it out. We really wish this wasn't happening, but we can't change it, and I'm really, really sorry. Hopefully, we can just ignore him, and have a nice Christmas together. Is there anything you don't understand?" The children shook their heads seriously, looking quite worried. "I don't want to scare you." John assured them, looking from one to the other sincerely "But I wanted you to be prepared for what might happen. Alright?" They nodded. "Ok. Off we go, then, let's get ready for school."

Phillip and Angelica got down from the table, put their bowls by the sink, and scurried off to fetch their bags from their rooms, and John sighed, rubbing his head. Alex squeezed his hand.

"You did really well." he said, quietly.

"Really? I don't know, was I too harsh about it? I think I scared them..."

"They need to know the truth about the situation." Alex countered. "You were completely honest, and didn't exclude anything. Can't ask for more than that. If they were scared, it's for good reason. The guy hates most of the adults they know just for _existing_ \- it's going to throw them a little. But you were definitely right to make sure they know they can talk to us. You did wonderfully."

"Thanks." John pressed a soft kiss to his lips, before getting up and adding his own plate to the pile by the sink. "I'll go help them, are you good to take Frances?"

"Yeah, of course. I have the whole week off, us two can stay home today, yeah? Have some bonding time."

"She's a year old, Alex."

"And already a genius." his husband sighed fondly, unstrapping Frances from her high chair and deftly hitching her into his arms. "We're the best parents ever."

"Yeah, yeah." John shook his head and headed out into the hall, where Phillip and Angelica were pulling on their shoes. Angie was having trouble with the laces, so he bent down to help her. Immediately, he noticed how quiet she was. While Phillip was a boy of few words, but a little ball of energy, shooting around like nobody's business, Angelica talked a mile a minute. She always had something to say, little chatterbox that she was, but right now, she was silent- and there was only one obvious reason why. Once he had tied her shoe, he put a hand lightly under her chin so he could look into her face.

"What is it, snowflake?" Angelica didn't answer, but shrugged one shoulder, looking at the ground. John took her hands gently, lowering his voice further still. "Come on, sweetie, you can tell me what's wrong. Is it about grandpa?" She nodded. "What about him?" There were a few seconds of silence before she answered.

"Will..." she whispered. "Will we still get to see everyone for Christmas? Laf and Uncle Herc and our Aunties and everyone? Or will it just be grandpa?"

"Oh, baby..." John murmured, taking her into his arms. "Of course we'll get to see everyone. It'll be just like normal, but with one frowny man in the background, OK? I'll make sure he stays away from you as much as possible. I promise." Angie buried her face into his chest, clutching hiss T-shirt. Turning slightly, John saw that Phillip was watching, looking nervous himself, so shifted the girl into one arm and held the other out to his son, holding him tight when he came over and wrapped his thin arms around his waist. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, atop the curls so exactly like his own. "You're both so brave." he told them. "I wish you didn't have to deal with this. I'm so proud of you."

Alexander, watching from the kitchen with little Frances curled against his own chest, felt a stab of resentment towards Henry Laurens. This was what he was putting their family- their _children_ \- through, and he hadn't even arrived yet. He resolved on the spot to make sure the next week was as unpleasant for him as it was surely going to be for them- and hey, if that meant shoving his sexuality in a crusty old bigot's face, well... That was certainly a sacrifice he was willing to make.


	2. The arrival

***So. Um. This chapter is WAAAY longer and WAAAY angstier than I intented... I promise happiness is coming! Sorry it took so long... but honestly look at the word count you can see why- it's literally more than double my goal for a chapter. Don't get used to them being this long lol***

That Friday, Alex was home with Frances, helping her to complete a set of simple two and four-piece puzzles, lying on his stomach on the living room floor. The little girl was getting better and better at them, clearly enjoying herself, and he felt his heart swell with pride every time she finished one. It seemed silly, but watching her improve and learn was one of the most fascinating things he'd ever done, and listening to her excited babbles and coos when she succeeded made him smile broader than anything. John was collecting Angelica and Phillip from school- taking longer than usual because it was the last day of term, and also because he'd promised that the three of them could stop off at the bakery on the next street for pastries on the way home; Aaron, a family friend who owned the place, often gave them the factory rejects for free.

He was starting to pack the puzzle pieces back into their box when the doorbell rang. That was odd- almost everyone they knew had a key by now- they came over so often that it seemed stupid not to give them one. And he would have heard John and the kids about a mile down the road- their voices carried easily... So that could only mean... _Shit_. It must be John's father. Alex froze on his knees, unsure of what to do. What _was_ there to do? _Just answer the door, Alex, answer the door_.  
Preparing himself for the worst, Alex picked Frances up in his arms, supporting her carefully, and headed for the door. When he opened it, he was faced by the most unpleasant-looking man he had ever seen.

Henry Laurens was huge, coming close to Washington in size, and had receding hair that had clearly once been black, but was now a cold, iron grey. His suit was immaculate- it looked like it had been ironed while he was wearing it- jet black with a pure white shirt underneath. Skin sallow and pale, mouth a thin line and his nose hooked and crooked, it was hard to believe that this could be John's father. The only resemblance was his eyes. They were dark green, the same shade as John's, but they had none of John's warmth and laugher. John's eyes were kind. These were hard, and cruel.  
He looked Alexander up and down, taking in the slightly dishevelled Latino man with carpet slippers and a baby balanced on his hip, and seemed to assume that he'd got the wrong house.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for a Jack Laurens?" he queried. Even his voice was arrogant. Alex grimaced- John hated it when people called him 'Jack'. Perhaps this was why...

"Yes, of course. He lives here. He'll be home soon." Alex answered. He couldn't keep the stiff note of dislike out of his voice.

"Henry, isn't it? Why don't you come in?" He stepped to the side to let the man into the house, closing the door behind him quickly to keep the frigid winter air from freezing the hallway and watched as he set his large suitcase in the hall. He then led him through to the kitchen, gesturing for him to sit down at the table, and put Frances in her high chair. "Coffee?" he asked, as he grabbed the kettle from the sideboard.

"Yes, thank you." Henry was staring around the room, eyes running in confusion over the children's paintings that decorated the walls- clumsy primary colours and butterfly prints, mostly by Angelica. She had inherited her Papa's love of art. One of John's own paintings was hung above the sink, depicting a phoenix in flight, its wings trailing thin blue flames through the air, but he didn't seem to have noticed it. Alex loved that painting. It had taken John almost a week, mostly spent sitting in front of his canvas and frowning, planning, thinking, and he'd screwed up countless attempts before muttering "fuck it" and just attacking the damn thing with a brush. It had turned out beautiful.

Alex made the coffee in silence, trying to decide on a plan of action for when Henry inevitably started asking questions. Should he just come out with the truth? He didn't feel good about outing John like that- it should be _him_ to tell his father- but what would he do if he flat-out asked? He couldn't lie, that would make things worse... He set the man's coffee on the table in front of him before pouring one for himself and sitting down in silence.

"Your name is Alex, is it?" Mr Laurens asked. Alex nodded. "John mentioned you over the phone, but didn't go into details. How long have you lived with him?"

"Seven years, sir."

"Seven, really? And the little one is...?"

"Frances." He smiled, holding out a finger that Frances gripped enthusiastically. "My daughter, but you can probably tell. I've been told that there's quite the resemblance. She's almost six months."

"Right. Odd, that you don't live with your wife." Alex winced at the loaded question.

"I don't have a wife, sir."

"Ah. I see."

He took a sip of his coffee.

"These paintings, Frances did them?"

"No, her sister- Angelica. She's quite the little artist."

"Where is she?"

"School." Alex was beginning to feel more and more that he was being interviewed. He had to remind himself to try and make a good impression. "Or, coming back. John is bringing her and her brother home- they should be back soon."

"That's very good of him."

"Yes, he's very kind."

"And to let you and your children live with him, too. Very generous."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, sir."

Henry frowned and opened his mouth to answer, but didn't get a chance, as he was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. A babble of chatter swept in from the hall- Phillip asking when they could eat the pastries, and Angie rambling excitedly about their art lesson that day- interspersed with the little chuckle that Alex had taken to calling John's 'dad laugh'- as the door was closed again, along with the thump of several bags being set down.

"Ah, that's them now." Alex smiled at Mr Laurens and stood. "You wait here, I'll tell them you've arrived." Remembering his promise to John, he scooped Frances up as he left and carried her into the hall with him. Henry sat, looking a little non-plussed, at the table.

In the hall, Alex couldn't help the large grin that split his face. His family was bundled in scarves, pink-cheeked, gloved, and dusted with snow. Phillip and Angie were grinning from under their hats, but John's expression was strained.

"I saw a car outside." he muttered. "Is he...?" Alex nodded.

"He's in the kitchen. I haven't told him yet- he just thinks you're letting me stay here with my kids out of pity or something."

"Ok..." John pulled off his coat and set his jaw. He took a deep breath. "In we go, I guess."

"Hey- wait-" Alex stopped him, for Frances was wailing and babbling, reaching out her hands for him, and was becoming quite difficult to hold. "Frances wants her Papa. Poor kid, she's had to put up with me all day." John smiled and took Frances into his arms, placing a kiss to her forehead.

"Hey, hey, baby, you're ok, Papa's here. You don't have to stay with silly old Daddy any more."

"Hey, 'old'? You're older than me, Mr Favourite Parent." Alex scoffed, poking his side.

"I'm young at heart, you're a total Dad."

"Am not."

"Alex, you're wearing _carpet slippers_."

"Ugh, fine. You win this round." John smirked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"What's my prize?"

"Family bonding time." Alex gestured to the kitchen, and John grimaced. Angie tugged on Alex's sleeve.

"Daddy, will grandpa be angry with us?"

"No, sweetie, no." Alex ran a hand through his daughter's hair, heart clenching a little at the worry on her face. "He might be angry with me and Papa, but not with you. If he _is_ , he'll have to answer to me. Ok?" Angie bit her lip.

"Ok."

The family exchanged a glance, as one, and headed into the kitchen. Alex lead, Angelica clutching one hand, Phillip hanging off the other, and John followed with Frances in his arms- all of them dreading the conversation that was to come. All they could do was push through.

Henry was still sitting stiffly at the table. As the group entered, he raised his eyebrows at the sight of Frances clinging to John's chest, then looked with steely eyes from him to Alex, to Angelica, and to Phillip. On him, his gaze lingered a little longer. It was impossible for him _not_ to notice the resemblance between Phillip and John; the little boy was the spitting image of his father- curls, freckles and all, and was currently even mirroring the apprehensive expression on his face. Angelica was trying to hide behind Alex's legs. It was John who broke the silence.

"Father. What a pleasure to see you." Alex caught the bitter note behind his words. John took a breath, as if steeling himself to say what he needed to. He set Frances into her chair, then placed a warm hand on Alex's shoulder, before turning back to his father with a pleasant smile. "I see you've already met my husband."

There was silence. Henry Laurens looked from one face to another with mounting distaste. He looked angry. That frightened Alexander.

"Your _what_ , Jack?"

"My husband. The love of my life. The father of my children." Sarcasm mounting in his voice, but expression still as calm as he could make it, he held his father's gaze with a forced calm. Alex could feel his fingers shaking. "Is it sinking in yet?"

"So you're-"

"I'm gay, father. Always have been." Henry Laurens' expression was sour.

"I see." There was a short pause. Then, John spoke again- sentences short and broken. He knew what he needed to say.

"I know you don't agree with it. I know you won't accept me. I did not invite you here, and, quite frankly, you are not welcome. You can choose to stay with us and see how I've been living for the last seven years, or- if this makes you too _uncomfortable_ \- you can leave. Please, do not feel obliged to stay." He squeezed Alex's shoulder, then released it. "In the meantime, who wants some hot chocolate?"

"M-Me, please."

"Me too." The children's voices were timid. They were afraid of Henry: that was clear. Hell- _Alex_ was afraid of Henry. John was _definitely_ afraid of Henry. But if they let him see that, he would hold the power, and they could not let that happen. Alex forced a smile.

"Great idea, babe. What do you say we make Herc's special Irish stuff- as a treat. We have a guest, after all." Looking down at Phillip and Angie, he smiled as reassuringly as he could, and saw their faces light up a little at the promise of the rich drink. He felt John kiss the side of his head, and Henry's eyes follow the movement.

"That sounds wonderful. Do you two want to help?"

"Yes please."

Alex helped the two of them push their chairs up to the stove so that they could reach it, and pulled the cocoa powder and cinnamon from the cupboard, while John measured out milk into a saucepan and lit the stove. Angie was starting to relax, smiling a little again and chatting to John even more about what she'd done at school that day, though Phillip was still silent, and kept glancing back at the table to where his grandfather was sitting. John seemed to notice this, because he put his arm around his son's shoulder and handed him the wooden spoon.

"Care to do the honours, my liege?" A small smile twitched at the boy's mouth.

"Okay."

"Hey, what about _me?_ " Angie whined, fidgeting on her chair. John chuckled.

" _You_ can add the spices, princess." This seemed to appease the girl, because she smiled broadly and started telling Phillip exactly how to stir the cocoa. At this point, Frances started to cry, so Alex picked her up, set her on his hip and began to pace up and down the kitchen, bouncing her slightly with every step. This usually calmed her down. After a minute or so, he started to sing quietly under his breath-

"Sigue andando el camino por toda su vida, Respira…Y si pierdes mis huellas que dios te bendiga, Respira…" Henry Laurens' eyes went straight to him, noting the Spanish, no doubt. He was still sitting stock still at the table, watching the family with a calculating air, as if he was trying to find fault with them. In a few minutes, the cocoa was finished and Phillip grabbed five mugs from the cupboard. John helped him to pour a little cocoa into each one, careful not to let him get burnt, and then left them to cool a little on the sideboard. Angie was counting the cups.

"Why are there five?" she asked Phillip. "Frances is too little for cocoa, silly."

"T-That one's for grandpa." Phillip's eyes darted to the man at the table, and then back to the floor. He was tugging at his shirt sleeve, as he always did when he was nervous- Alex noticed it before recitals and exams, and often when meeting new people. He felt a swell of pride in his son- thinking to include the man even when he was clearly terrified of him.

"That's very thoughtful of you Philip!" John smiled from across the room, voicing Alexander's own thoughts. "What do you say, father? Care to try some of our Irish cocoa? I know it's no cold malt and honey, but we make do."

"Thank you. How kind of you to offer." Henry answered stiffly, nodding to his grandson. Philip stared back at him with wide eyes.

"Does anyone want cream?" John asked, pulling the tube from the fridge.

"Me please!" said Angie.

"And me." Alex put it, still rocking a quietly wailing Frances in his arms. Philip shook his head.

"No thank you."

"Alright then. Father?"

"No, I would prefer not."

"Got it." John added cream to two of the cups and handed them out, setting the steaming mug in front of a still scowling Henry. "Careful, it's still hot." he told the kids, and they nodded and blew on their drinks, sitting down at the table. There were only five seats, counting the high chair, but Alex was still pacing with Frances so John joined them, making sure to put himself between Angie and his father. The high chair separated him from Philip.

For a little while, they all sipped their cocoa in silence. Alex chuckled as he saw that Angie had cream all over her nose, and dipped his own face into his mug so that he looked the same. Catching sight of him, his daughter giggled, which made Philip look round and laugh too- and John rolled his eyes at his dork of a husband.

"You goof." He reached out and wiped the glob of cream off his face, licking it off his finger with a smirk. Angie just giggled harder. The look on Henry's face was growing more and more unpleasant by the second- his lips pursing tighter and tighter as he looked around the table at the cheerful family. They all looked around when he cleared his throat.

"I must say I'm surprised, Jack." he said. "I know we have never seen eye to eye in this… area, but I never once expected that you would stoop so low in your attempts to disrespect my authority as to… become one of them." His voice was cold, his expression sour. The disgust in his eyes made Alexander's gut squirm. He looked to John, and was proud to see an incredulous, and almost _amused_ look in his eyes, and that he was shaking his head.  
"You think I married a man just to anger you? You think I decided to spend the rest of my life with Alexander, to have _three children_ with Alexander, in order to ' _disrespect your authority'_? You clearly have a rather inflated view of just how much _you_ influence my decisions. I haven't been in contact with you for eleven years, father. I've been married to Alexander for seven of them- and you didn't even _know_. Trust me when I say that your views no longer have any power over my actions. I married Alex because I fell in love with him; it's as simple as that." Henry Laurens snorted.

"Nonsense. That kind of love can exist only between a man and a woman- and few find it. You must be more arrogant than I thought to assume that you are one of the lucky ones- and in an _unnatural_ relationship such as this-"

"Just because you never found love with any of your four miserable, reluctant wives, that does not mean that no one else gets to be happy." John interrupted him. " _That kind of love_ does not just happen- it blooms through hard work and loyalty and trust in one another, and it can exist between anyone."

"If you must work for a relationship to be loving, perhaps your 'love' is not as true as you thought."

"If you refuse to put any work into a relationship, it is clearly not a loving one."

"I cannot believe this. You have the _nerve_ to disrespect me in this way- to-"

"And _you_ have the nerve to come into my home uninvited, to disrespect my and my husband's sexuality and our relationship in front of our children-"

"They cannot be _your_ children." Henry spat. "Where is their mother, _I_ would like to know-"

"Their _biological_ mothers are good friends of ours, and live nearby- but they live separately and have no parental connection with our children- and one has children of her own. That is not important."

"Not important? You are not their real parents!"

"If you want details, _I_ am Philip's biological father, and Alexander is Frances and Angelica's- but Philip is as much Alex's son as he is mine-"

"Impossible, you must have biologically created the child to be their parent."

"You expected me to call your second and third wife 'Mother', though they had no biological connection to me." John countered.

"That- That was different!"

"Yes, it was different. Those women did not love me or treat me as their son. Alex and I love and care for our children more than you ever did yours."

"I fail to see the proof of that-"

"Look around you, Henry. My children are happy, healthy, and free to be themselves. Do you see any bruises on their faces or their arms? Are you proud of the ones you gave _me_?" Henry did not reply. His mouth moved to find words, but none were spoken. John smiled wryly. "The only unloved father in this room is you, Henry Laurens" He took a steadying breath. "My previous statement still stands. You are here uninvited and unwanted, but if you insist on staying, I will not stand to hear you disrespect my family or my friends, especially around my children. If your intolerance, cowardice and fear lead you to run off home, then there is no-one here who will stop you."

There was a long silence. When Henry did not break it, John finished his cocoa, then stood up from the table. As he passed him on his way to put his mug next to the sink, Alex reached out and squeezed his hand. His husband gave him a pained smile.

"Philip, Angie?" Alex said, looking over to the table. The two children looked up at him quickly, eyes still wide and fearful. "Why don't you go and put on a movie in the living room, since it's the end of term?" Grateful smiles split their faces, and the two scrambled down from their seats, Angie taking her half-drunk hot chocolate with her. Before he got to the door, Philip stopped, seeming to think of something, and then ran back over to Alexander.

"Daddy, can Frances watch too? I think she'd like 'the Snowman'- and it's Angie's favourite." Alex beamed.

"That's a wonderful idea, Philip. Can you carry her, or would you like me to take her through?"

"I can take her." The little boy held out his arms for his sister, and Alex carefully passed her over. Watching fondly as he carried her gently out of the room, heeding Angie's yell of "Phil, hurry _up_!", he couldn't help thinking how much he was growing up. Philip was getting so big…

Left in the silent kitchen with one man he loved and one he hated, Alex looked warily around at both of them. John was standing with his back to the room. His shoulders were tight. His knuckles were white on the countertop. Henry was straight-backed at the table, his hard green eyes flicking from Alex to his husband, and back. Hesitating slightly, he walked over to John. He needed to get away from his father, quickly. Alex put a light hand on his arm.

"Baby, why don't you go through and watch with the kids? I'll take care of the mugs- I know you love 'the Snowman', and someone's got to make sure Angie and Philip don't break the TV." John smiled at him gratefully.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you."

"Anytime, honey." Alex leaned up, placed a soft kiss on his husband's lips, and then squeezed his arm as he headed for the door. Then, he took the mugs from the sink and started to wash them up, listening vaguely to the familiar music floating through the hall. For a time, there was silence but for that, and the swish of the water as Alex wiped out the cups, and he let himself forget about the man sitting at their kitchen table. After a while, however, he was reminded by the man himself.

"You are content, then, at playing this man's housewife?" he said. He felt anger spark in him.

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"He has you washing his dishes, rocking a child he calls his own, kissing him as a wife- has he even persuaded you to bed?" Alex clenched his jaw. _Who did this man think he was?_ He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take- but tried to keep his voice level as he started drying up the now clean cocoa mugs.

"Firstly, we divide chores evenly among ourselves, I simply offered this time. Secondly, Frances _is_ his daughter, and we also spend equal time and energy caring for our children. Thirdly, I do not kiss him 'as a wife', I kiss him as his husband, because I am in love with him- romantically. That is why I married him. Lastly, I do not feel that our sex life is any of your _fucking business,_ and that you would do well to keep your mouth shut about such things." He replaced the mugs in the cupboard, shot a cold look at his father in law, and marched out of the kitchen, fuming. _What kind of fetishising, homophobic, bigoted prick-_

The doorbell rang.

Alex walked down to get it. Who would be calling today? Lafayette, Hercules, and the Jeffersons were out of town until next week, and it wasn't like the Burrs to drop by without giving them notice… He pulled open the door to reveal three wonderfully familiar faces. The Schuyler siblings, in a beaming row, Eliza holding a large box of cookies and all three of them wearing very stylish winter coats.

"Alex!" Eliza cried, hugging him.

"Let us in quick, it's freezing!" huffed her sister. Alex quickly stepped aside to let them troop inside, taking the cookies from Eliza. As they stamped off their boots in the hall, Angelica setting down a bag of brightly-wrapped boxes, he called through to John.

"Babe, it's the Schuylers!"

"Hi guys!" came the yelled reply, and all three greeted him back, hanging their coats. Philip and Angie's voices could be heard too, excited at the visit from the family friends.

"So, do what do I owe the pleasure?" Alex asked, helping Eliza to get her coat onto the hook- it was too high for her to reach. Peggy rolled their eyes.

"We did tell you we were coming, Al. Like, last week. We just want to see you guys, have dinner, you know, watch something dumb and Christmassy…" _Oh, now he remembered. They_ had _told him. Oops._

"Aw, shit, guys, I'm really sorry- I just-"

"Forgot. We know. You always do." Angelica smiled at him, her own eyes turned to the ceiling as well. She shook her head. "If you're busy, we can go."

"No, no, stay!" Alex said hastily. "It's just… a lot's going on right now? Uh-" he lowered his voice, "- John's father invited himself down for Christmas." Three pairs of eyes widened.

"What?" Peggy hissed.

"You mean Henry Laurens? His homophobic, abusive, asshole dad that he hasn't spoken to for a decade?" Angelica whisper-yelled.

"That's the one."

"When's he coming?"  
"He's- uh- he's here right now. He's in the kitchen." Their eyes turned into saucers.

"He's _what?_ "

"Has he said anything about…" Eliza inclined her head, her meaning clear. Alex grimaced.

"Oh, he's said plenty. John put him in line though, for now."

"Good on him." Peggy nodded.

"I know. But… you could probably help. He can't be too rude to strangers." Angelica narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, _I'll_ give him a piece of my mind."

" _No._ We- We don't want confrontation, if we can help it. Doesn't mean you can't correct him if he says something, but we don't want to look for a fight. We already know he can get violent…" The three of them exchanged a look.

"Alright. But this won't be pretty."

"I know." Alex rubbed his eyes, and sighed. "John's watching 'the Snowman' with the kids- that dumb enough for you, Peggy?"  
"Sounds great!" They smiled, toothily.

"Awesome. You three want some cocoa? We made Herc's special Irish stuff… and John picked up some pastries from Burr's on the way here, so we can share them out- along with these cookies, which smell _amazing,_ by the way."

"Oh, _please,_ you don't mean that _._ "

"Sounds wonderful, Alex."

"I am _always_ a slut for some unhealthy snack foods."

"Great. Come grab some mugs- and you can see the guy for yourselves. I'll introduce you- and, Peggy?" They looked at him, confused.

"Yeah?"

"If he purposely misgenders you, slap him." Peggy grinned.

"Will do."

"Not if I get there first." growled Angelica. Alex chuckled a little and lead the trio through to the kitchen, where Henry Laurens was still sitting, and he looked up as they entered.

"Henry, these are the Schuylers- Eliza, Angelica, and Peggy. They are very good friends of ours and they'll be staying for dinner."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." he said, stiffly. They murmured reluctant assent. Alex poured them all cocoa while they all stood and glared in the direction of the table. Even without looking, he could _tell_ that they were sizing him up, matching him to all the stories they'd heard from John, and the attitudes they knew he held. He was honestly surprised the man didn't burst into flames on the spot. As he handed out the mugs, and they all headed back out, Alex turned to Henry.

"Why don't you join us in the living room?" he said. "Can't have you sitting here on your own, can we?" Henry scowled, but stood in the face of Alex's expression- which made it perfectly clear that his statement was a demand, not a request.

"Very well."

"You go through, I'll bring in the food." Alex told the Schuylers, who nodded and led the man through to the living room. As quickly as he could, Alex cut up the pastries so that they would be easier to share, and put half the cookies onto a plate, before carrying the snacks through to the living room. There, he found John, Philip, and Peggy in a kind of puppy pile on the floor, John holding a mesmerised Frances in his arms, and Eliza and Angelica sharing one sofa, little Angie sitting on Eliza's lap. Henry was on the other sofa, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Alex put the snacks down on the coffee table, and the children- and Peggy- dove on them immediately. Chuckling, he took a seat on the ground next to John. His husband smiled, kissed his cheek, and put Frances on his lap, before shifting to rest his head on his shoulder. Philip lay down so that he was half on top of Peggy, half on John, and Alex could hear him quietly humming along to the music. They always watched this around Christmas. The tree in the corner of the room glittered in the corner of his eye, presents already piled underneath it, he could feel Angelica's knee digging into his back, and if he tried hard enough, he could imagine that Henry just wasn't there. Little known to him, everyone else in the room was doing the exact same thing.

When the movie ended, Peggy, John and Angie went through to the kitchen and started making dinner- pasta bolognaise: both John and Philip's favourite, and Philip went up to his room to read. This left Alex, Eliza, and Angelica to clear up the remnants of the snacks, Alex doing it one-handed with Frances on his hip. Henry didn't help them. He still seemed to be analysing the sisters, trying to figure out what he didn't like about them; maybe looking for signs that they were gay or something. Well, Alex thought, he wouldn't find them. Eliza could fool most people with her cute hair topknots and flowery dresses- no flannel or DMs for her, unless you counted the time she'd worn them solely to try and pick up girls. "I look so _straight!_ " she'd complained. "No girls ever hit on me!" Alex had also noticed the uncomfortable way he had been eyeing Peggy. They were wearing a binder today, along with a stripy tank top that they'd cropped themselves, and that clearly showed the straps under it- and no make-up, making them appear very androgynous. Henry was probably trying to work out if they were a boy or a girl- and it seemed to be making him very uncomfortable indeed. Good. He hoped that would continue.

They went through to the kitchen, and Henry followed them, seeming very awkward and out of place, to put the now empty plates into the sink. They found Angie chatting animatedly to Peggy about the movie, words spilling out of her mouth at top-speed bouncing on her heels and gripping their hand. Peggy was grinning down at the little girl, saying "Yes, I loved that part!" and "Oh, that was beautiful!" at regular intervals. As they entered, they looked up and smiled at Alex.

"Quite a chatterbox we've got here, Al."

"I wonder who she gets it from…" Alex and Angelica spoke at the same time, then turned to look at each other and snorted.

"Hey, mister mile-a-minute, it's definitely from you." Angelica said, sticking out her tongue at the man.

"No way! Remember when you ranted to Jefferson for a full hour on women's rights?"

"I'm passionate about it!"

"You're passionate about _everything._ "

"Okay, okay, it was probably both of us." she admitted. Alex chuckled.

"Yeah. Maybe ours weren't the best genes to put together if we wanted a quiet child."

"You think?" Eliza snorted. Angelica scrunched her nose up at her sister, laughing. At that point, Alex noticed Henry staring from one person to the other, realization dawning on his face. He approached Angelica, frowning.

"Are you the little girl's mother then, Miss Schuyler?" he asked bluntly. Angelica's expression became abruptly closed-off. When she answered, her voice was cold.

"No. I may have given birth to Angie, but she is not my daughter."

"You gave birth to her, that _makes_ her your daughter- are you really happy to see her raised by two others- two _men?_ "

"Once again, sir, she is not my daughter, and yes. I am. Philip and Alexander are wonderful fathers."

"You mean to say that you _willingly-_ "

"Father!" John yelled, cutting him off. "We are not having this conversation- possibly not _ever_ , and _certainly_ not now. If you cannot be civil and respect this family's privacy, I will have to ask you to leave." Henry gritted his teeth, clearly still angry, and sat down at the head of the table.

He didn't bring it up again.

At around five, Eliza's wife, Maria, arrived with their daughter Willow and helped to make the food. Upon their arrival, Philip came back downstairs and disappeared with his cousin to play knights and dragons- and Angie complained about not being able to join in until they let her be the wicked witch. She was guarding Philip, the dragon, from Willow's daring knightly rescue- a slightly unorthodox version of the story, but that, Alex thought, went for most things about their family. He was persuaded to join in after the witch managed to capture both the knight _and_ the dragon and lock them inside a giant cave.

"Daddy, you have to be the princess and rescue them!" Angie told him, dragging on his arm.

"Why am I a princess?" he asked her. "Aren't I brave enough to be a dashing knight?"

"No." his daughter said firmly. "It has to be a princess. A knight didn't work before, so the princess has to do it! Witches' curses don't _work_ on princesses, so you can sneak in!" Well, Alex was hardly one to argue with that logic.

Ten minutes later, Alexander now wearing a plastic tiara and carrying Phillip and Willow over his shoulders while Angie ran behind them, they all burst into the kitchen, giggling furiously.

"Alex, not near the stove!" Angelica yelled, waving him away from the hot sauce that was cooking there.

"Sorry, sorry- Ah!" he yelled as Angie poked his ankles with a wooden spoon, saying "Zap! Zap!". "Can't you see I'm being attacked by a wicked witch!?"

"Ah never fear, fair princess!" cried Peggy. They grabbed a spatula and pointed it at Angie. "I'm a brave wizard and I've come to save you!" They and Angie started sword-fighting with the utensils, until they managed to jab her lightly in the chest, and yelled "Abracabra! You're a frog!" Still giggling, Angie threw her hands up in the air.

"AAaaahhh! Nooooo!" she cried, before falling onto the floor, nearly tripping up Eliza as she carried plates to the table. "I'm a frog now! Ribbit! Ribbit!" Alex laughed as he watched his daughter hop around like a frog, still trying to attack Peggy's feet. His back starting to hurt, Alex lowered the other two kids to the floor.

"Oof- you guys are getting heavy! Stop growing for a second why don't you- let old man Alex catch up." The cousins stumbled out of his arms, whooping and cheering.

"We're saved!"

"Thank you, wizard Peggy!"

"Ah, but what you _don't_ know… is that I was the real bad guy all along!" Peggy yelled, grabbing Willow around the waist and tickling her furiously.

"AAaah!" the other two screamed. Angie jumped out of her frog-stance to try and help Willow, who was now shrieking with laughter, and Philip managed to jump onto their back from behind and tickle them right back. They released Willow with a yell, and stood up, Philip now hanging off their shoulders, and-"

"AND THEN a giant rock fell from the sky and squashed the wizard, and they all went home and had their dinner!" Maria yelled over the racket, clapping her hands and ushering the giggling children towards the table.

"Aww _mom_!" Willow groaned, but she sat down as well, and Alex, panting slightly, took a seat between John and Frances. John smiled and gently took the tiara from his head, setting it at the end of the table.

"What a daring adventure, princess Alexander. A most unexpected twist." He winked at Peggy, who gave them finger-guns from across the room where they were sitting on the counter.

The meal passed relatively smoothly. They'd had to pull in the piano stool, both Philip and Alex's desk chairs, and a footstool for Maria, and that _still_ left Peggy on the counter and Angelica standing, but they made do. The food was delicious, and Alex wolfed his down quickly- he was starving.

"Hungry, babe?" John asked him with raised eyebrows, a teasing smile on his face.

"But of course! I had to battle a wicked witch to rescue a knight and a dragon from an enchanted cave, John! That's tiring work- really gets you an appetite." His husband laughed.

"I must say the tiara suited you. You should wear it to work sometime, _princess._ "

"Does that make you my Prince Charming?" Alex asked, batting his eyelashes. John rolled his eyes and kissed him, once, tasting the sauce on his lips.

"I guess it does."

"You guuuyys, _stop_ , you're giving me cavities." Peggy complained, their own mouth full of pasta.

Philip talked quietly to Eliza about the book he had been reading, Willow listening intently as well, while Angie was chatting to anyone who would listen about how the part of the story they'd missed had gone down. The backstory was becoming more twisted by the second. They finished the meal fairly quickly, and then, opting to leave the messy plates on the table and pretend they didn't exist for now, moved back to the living room to play a board game- Monopoly, which Peggy and Philip won by a landslide. Alex went bankrupt within fifteen minutes and complained loudly that the system that the bank relied on was deeply flawed, and that if _he_ had been designing it, it would have been much different, while Eliza tried to shut him up, reminding him that it was _just a game._ The Angelicas managed to stock up and ended up giving everybody loans, which they cashed in at the most _inconvenient_ moments, and Willow, playing with Eliza, ended up in jail a total of seventeen times, which Philip found hilarious. He bailed her out when he could, though. Maria didn't play, but sat on the sofa, watching and laughing and doing a crossword, which Alex helped her with after he ended up being disqualified. All in all, a normal evening with the Schuylers.

The game finished at almost eight o'clock, and it took another hour to persuade both Willow and Peggy into getting their stuff together enough to leave. When they did, everyone piled into the hall, hugging anyone they could reach, kissing cheeks, bumping fists, and eventually the visitors spilled out onto the street, waving and laughing. Eliza slipped over on the now-icy road, much to Maria and Willow's amusement. The Laurens-Hamiltons waved them from the door, blowing kisses as best they could with five of them squashed into the doorframe- and then closed the door, all still smiling, and set about repairing the damage that had been done to their house. While Philip, John, and Angie cleared up the toys that now littered the living room, hall, and stairs, Alexander, Frances in one arm, collected the dirty plates and cutlery and put them in the sink to be dealt with later. There were a _lot_ of them. He then wiped down the counter, humming, tapping his foot, and got a shock when he turned back to find Henry Laurens standing in the middle of the room. He'd almost forgotten the man existed. Henry spoke, frowning.

"Mr…?"

"Laurens-Hamilton. Just call me Alexander."

"Mr Hamilton. Would you mind telling me where I will be sleeping?" He was carrying his suitcase in one hand, and the sheer _entitlement_ in his voice made Alex want to wring his neck.

"Of course, we have a spare room next to the lounge. The Burrs come to stay quite often, so it's all made up, just take your stuff in." Hitching Frances up higher on his hip, he went through to the hall and opened the door to the spare room. "So you've decided to stay?"

"Of course. I am not so weak that I cannot tolerate those who have different lifestyles to mine."

 _Living in the same house does not equal tolerance_ Alex thought, but he didn't say it.

"Of course. I hope you're comfortable." The man nodded curtly and entered, shutting the door behind him. Alexander exhaled slowly.

Hearing laughter from upstairs, he carried Frances up and went into Philip's room, where John was sitting on the floor with the two children at his feet. Now in their pyjamas, they were listening intently while he read a story- their latest chapter of 'the Hobbit'. Philip in particular _adored_ the book. When Alex entered, the three looked up and smiled, John pausing in his hoarse impression of a goblin, and , smiling, patted the rug next to him.

"Why don't you come and listen? This chapter's almost done, then you can read one while I put Frances to bed."

"Alright." Alex sat down gratefully, rocking Frances in his arms, and listened to his husband finish the chapter. Mostly, he was watching the enraptured expressions on his children's faces. There were only a couple of pages left in the chapter, so they were done quickly, and John, true to his word, swapped Frances for the book and left the room.

"Two chapters at most, you three." he told them with a knowing smile. Alex rolled his eyes as he pulled his reading glasses from his pocket.

"Ok, ok. Two at most." He gave an exaggerated wink to the kids, which made them giggle, and John called "I saw that!" from the landing as he started to climb the second set of stairs to Frances' room. Alexander chuckled, settled back, and started to read.

"When Bilbo opened his eyes, he wondered if he had, for it was just as dark as with them shut. No-one was anywhere near him. Just imagine his fright! He could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing except the cold stone of the floor…"

When John came back, almost forty five minutes later, he found the two giggling children balancing stuffed toys on his sleeping husband's stomach. Alexander's glasses were askew, his mouth open as he snored, the book open barely ten pages from where he had started reading. With a fond smile, John ushered both kids into the bathroom to clean their teeth, making sure Angie did hers properly instead of just chewing her brush- and then they went back to their own rooms and climbed into bed, Philip tiptoeing so as not to wake his dad. John followed Angie to her room and tucked her into bed. He kissed her forehead gently before he switched off the light.

"You did really well today, I'm proud of you." he told her. Angelica twisted her blanket between her fingers.

"Papa?"

"Yes, snowflake?"

"Why was grandpa so nasty to you and Daddy?" John sighed.

"I don't know, sugar. Probably because _he_ had a nasty Daddy growing up, I think."

"But _you_ have a nasty Daddy, and _you're_ nice."

"Well, yes, but I had a nice Mommy to help me learn how to be nice. And then, when I was older, I had nice friends like your Aunties and Peggy and Lafayette, so they showed me how to be nice." Angie nodded, thinking for a second.

"Is- " she hesitated. "Is it true that he used to hit you?" Her voice was little more than a whisper. John inhaled sharply.

"Where did you hear that?"

"I- I heard Eliza and Daddy talking about it." She looked at him with fearful eyes. "Is it true?"

"I… Yes. It's true."

"Will he… will he hit _us_?"

"No." John told her firmly. "No, I will never let him do that. If he so much as lays a finger on you, or Philip, or anybody else, he is going straight back home, do you understand me? I will not let him hurt you."

"Okay." Angelica's voice was small. "Okay." she repeated. It was as if she was trying to reassure herself, and John's heart broke at the fear on her face.

"Come here." he murmured, and held out his arms. He hugged his daughter tightly, held her for what felt like hours, feeling her clinging tightly to his shirt. "I love you." he told her. "I love you so, so much."

"I love you too, Papa."

John pulled away and squeezed her shoulders gently, then stood and flicked off her light. "Night night." she said.

"Goodnight, sweetie. If you need anything, just call, alright?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Ok, see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning."

He left the room, pulling the door closed gently behind him, and stopped dead when he saw who was standing right outside the door. Philip.

"Philip? Are you alright? Why aren't you in bed?"

"I- I heard what Angie said. About grandpa hitting you." _Oh._

"Then did you also hear what I said about me and Daddy making sure he never tries to hurt any of us again?" John asked, kneeling so that Philip was taller than him, and took his son's hands gently. He nodded, but didn't look at him.

"Was- Was it because you're gay?"

"No, not exactly. He didn't know that I was gay until today, but I think maybe he was worried that I might be. It was mostly because I didn't agree with him about a lot of things, and I wanted to do things he didn't like. When I was your age, I wanted to be a vet, or an artist. My father wanted me to be a lawyer. And I said I didn't want to go to law school, I wanted to join the art club at my school and sell my art to people instead, so he hit me and made me start taking classes in law. He hit me because I wouldn't call his new wife, Jessica, 'Mom', even though she never even talked to me. And he hit me when I said I thought it should be ok for two boys to get married. It wasn't just one thing. It was lots of things. It was because I wasn't the perfect little boy he wanted me to be, and that made him very angry." He sighed. "I don't know, Philip, perhaps you're too young for me to be telling you this stuff…"

"I'm eight and a half!" Philip protested.

"Yes, and that's still quite little. But… you're a very smart little boy, so I think you can understand. Do you?"

"I- I do. But…" his son swallowed, looked at the floor again. "Would you ever be angry with _me_ because I wanted to do something different?"

It was like a kick to the stomach. The fear in his son's eyes- fear of _him._ That he might be like Henry. That he might try to hurt him.

"No! No, no, sweetie, no, of course not. Why would you think that? Did I say something, earlier?" John bent his head so he could look into his eyes, trying to find the reason for the worry there.

"No… I was just… thinking…" Philip shrugged, still not looking at him.

"Well, you listen to me, right now. What I'm going to say is very important, Philip, do you understand?" The boy raised his head and met his eyes. He was listening. "Whoever you want to be- whoever you _are,_ your Dad and I will always love you, and we will always support you. We might not always agree, and that's ok, because we won't always be right. But you have to understand that we _love_ you, Philip. And that love does not depend on anything. I promise."

He could see tears pricking his son's eyes, and pulled him in for a tight hug, which the boy returned, wrapping his arms tightly around his father's neck. After a while, John stood, picking the boy up, and carried him into his bedroom, stepping carefully over Alex's legs to lie him on his bed. As Philip settled on the pillow, he ran his hand through the boy's hair, singing-

"Pride is not the word I'm looking for, there is so much more inside me now… oh, Philip you outshine the morning sun… my son. When you smile… I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart…" Philip looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"What's that song?"

"Your Daddy wrote it, just after you were born."

"Really?"

"Really, really. And every word is true. You're our morning sun- all three of you. We love you no matter what."

"I love you too, Papa." John smiled and leaned down, kissing the boy's forehead gently.

"I know stuff's hard right now. I know Henry's horrible, and we all just wish he would go away, but he won't be here forever. And you've done so well today, Philip. You were right to come and tell me what you were worried about, because then I can help you sort it out. You know you can always do that, right? You can always talk to us if you're worried- me _and_ your Dad. You understand?"

"Yes."

"Ok. I love you, baby."

"I love you too."

John smiled warmly at his son, then bent down and poked Alexander in the ribs, making him snuffle and open his eyes blearily.

"Mmmh?"

"Alex, you need to get up now and go to bed. You can't just sleep on Philip's floor." Alex turned onto his side.

" _Can_." he grunted.

"No you can't." John rolled his eyes at Philip, who stifled a laugh, and then picked Alexander up bridal style and carried him out of the room. The man squeaked as he was hoisted into the air, and John winked at a now giggling Philip as he backed out of the room. "Night, Philip."  
"Night, Papa. Goodnight, Dad."

"Night Philip." Alex yawned, curling further into John's chest. John carried Alex into their bedroom and laid him down on the bed, where he promptly rolled over and went back to sleep. Smiling, but still uneasy after the slightly stirring conversations he'd just had with his children, John pulled on his own pyjamas, and climbed in next to him. It took him a long while to get to sleep.

Well. One day down.

 _It will be alright,_ he told himself. Only now, he wasn't quite sure that he believed it.

 ***#HERE COMES THE ANGST TRAIN CHOOC FUCKING CHOOOOO**

 **thanks for reading. look what i did. i gave myself feelings. im sorry***


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